seven-a theater review

My Favorite Animal
Written by: Tom Sime
Directed by: Phyllis Cicero
The 45th Street Theatre
345 West 45th Street, New York, NY
(212) 352-3101
Review by: Ashley L. Mathus

Categorized as a “romantic comedy”, My Favorite Animal almost climbs that comedic mountain, but descends before we see the view. A cast of six finds themselves betwixt and between genders, trying to find the best possible solution for shaky relationships and whimsical wishes. Randi (Catherine DuBord), “with an I” has had a sex change, not by doctors but an unknown magical force, fulfilling her secret wish. Randi is a gay man who’s attracted to straight men, and is now a female seeking undivided attention from straight men everywhere. DuBord and her new bisexual psychiatrist, Jerry (Matt Lyle), discuss the sex change like a diluted version of “Who’s on first?” The pair opens up a can of worms of gender stereotypes, sexuality preferences, and maturity levels.

The “favorite animal” is man, echoing a primitive nature that every human faces. Though this comedic wish entertains for a while, Randi’s “magical” situation is never explained and half-heartedly resolved. We’re still left to wonder, why? Jerry’s mother, Gail (Sylvia Luedtke), is blunt helicopter parent, barging into Jerry’s office onstage with beer and cheap takeout. All glitz and glam, Luedtke is the best in show, receiving laughs for her motherly-bluntness and pure exasperation.

Eventually the entire cast is clustered in Jerry’s office, pushing the safety walls of a doctor’s lair. Annoying chaos ensues, becoming both humorous and confusing, in their alleged group therapy. Two straight men (a stalker and an overweight hick) unconvincingly try to recover from unrequited love. Fighting over a gun, they’d rather end their own misery than kill each other. My Favorite Animal has an original story line but fails to deliver pure passion for lifestyle choices. The actors’ memorization of dialogue is visible, logic and magic become one, and facial expressions are constantly over-the-top. Gail emerges as a superior psychiatrist, guiding everyone’s emotional guilt in this faux group session. Our laughter is procured from obvious conundrums, and nothing spectacular happens with gender change. We are encouraged to see both the positive and negative sides of altering sexes, but the focus shifts from character to character so fast we don’t have time to digest the amount of individual bedlam.